


special offer

by milkdaze (flowerstems)



Series: queen of hearts [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 18:11:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5426795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerstems/pseuds/milkdaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Linda knows she can count on Iris like four, three, two in times of crises. This is not one of those crises, but Iris is there for her all the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	special offer

The thing about being a reporter, a journalist, anything at all, is you need your facts to be in order. You need both a superficial and an intimate knowledge of your story. You need relevance, and you need sound evidence. You need to be this side of infallible. They don't tell you this when you first sign up, but you learn all of it within the first year (if you last long enough).

Usually, Linda has all that and more down to a t, but this one story has her on edge—she has everything in order, she has evidence, relevance, but there's the nagging feeling that her intimate knowledge just isn't intimate enough. She keeps telling herself that there isn’t any reason to freak out, she’s done more with less, but what she needs is to have this article done in two days. Not the anxiety, not the setback it brings.

It's cool, she's got this.

Four hours spin by; it's just before noon when Linda decides she has at least four reasons to freak out and that she has not ‘got this’.

At this point, she goes into her kitchen to cook, get her mind off the story for a little while and do something (vastly) more productive instead. The problem with that plan is Linda Park has emptied her fridge over the course of the very stressful week. She sticks her hand inside, grasps at cold air, and peeks into the fridge to find some milk, a few bottles of soft drink, and some yogurt. She's out of ice cream, and there's nothing she can cook.

The next best thing, she decides, is to call Iris.

Iris is good in all the ways a person can be and more. She’s a good friend, a great one, and right now she’s verbally a good shoulder to cry on, a good ear to whine to. Iris is keeping her cool in ways Linda doesn’t feel capable of in the face of this one article—she can feel the stress shortening her lifespan from the base of her spine to the centre of her chest, she’s sure of it.

“Woah, Linda, slow down.” Apparently, Iris thinks this is funny, there's no other reason for her to be giggling on the other end of the line. “You can buy more ingredients, right? Problem solved.”

“Uh, no.” Breathe, Linda, breathe. Two days. “The cashier thinks I buy a lot of ingredients just to torment him.” Iris chuckles again, but Linda bravely continues, “He said he doesn't want to see me for the rest of the week.”

“Just how much have you bought—how much money do you have?”

“That's not the point.” Linda has spent all her ‘me time’ money saved up over the past few months in this week alone; Iris doesn't need to know that. “Help me, Iris,” she groans, staring into the vast, cold emptiness of her fridge.

“All right, uh,” Iris is struggling to speak and laugh at the same time, but at least she's willing to help. “Meet me at the grocery?”

“You are a goddess, thank you.”

 

* * *

 

Linda greets Iris with a wave and a bounce in her step, tackling her in a hug when she's close enough and, “Thank you, thank you so much, Iris. I can't deal with this story right now. Can you believe the cashier is already giving me the stink eye, I'm not even inside yet.”

Iris laughs and hugs her, warm and tight, in that comforting way she does without even trying. She peeks over Linda's shoulder and, surely enough, the cashier's eyes are narrowed and their lips are set in a vaguely bitter line. Huh. “I thought you were exaggerating, but I guess not.”

“You know I'm not one for exaggeration.” Linda chimes, tugging Iris into the grocery by the hand.

“Of course.” Iris waves at the cashier in a quick little motion as they pass by, and he acknowledges her wave with a smile, but keeps a wary eye on Linda. “I think you've scarred the poor boy. Somehow.”

“I don't understand how that's possible.” Linda stops in an aisle, lets go of Iris’ hand to stoop down and scrutinise various bags of flour that, in Iris’ honest opinion, all look the same. “I'm great company and I'm good for business.”

Iris hums and folds her arms, hands idle now that they're free, and just when she thinks she's crafted the perfect response, one both clever and funny (it's a difficult balance), she's cut off by an excited employee. The girl bounds over, all cheer and bright smiles. She looks so young and somehow has the energy to boot—if the way she speaks in one breath means anything at all, “Hi, you guys are just the cutest couple, I love being able to look at you, and I mean. I hope you find whatever you're looking for! If you need any help, I'm right over there, by the counter!”

Iris feels her eyebrows shoot up to express all her surprise so she can focus on her instinct, which is to clear up this innocent girl's misconception, but Linda is standing tall and talking in a heartbeat, “Why, thank you! We've been together for about a year and it's just been the greatest!”

Linda makes small talk as she wraps her arms around Iris’ arm, rests her head on Iris’ shoulder, lacing their fingers together with a gentle squeeze and it's really kind of cute. Linda's fingers are playing up and down along Iris’ arm as she coos at the employee, and by the time Iris formulates the best way to ask Linda what’s happening the employee is off, looking happier than before. “Uh, Linda. What?” Absolutely eloquent.

Linda smiles and nods in the direction of a sign. It’s big, bright, and obnoxious beside the counter, Iris is ashamed she didn't notice it before, and it says: 15% off All Food Items & Special Couples’ Offer Buy One Get One Free! Happy Holidays!

Oh. Linda is just a genius.

“I’ve used up almost all my resources, Iris. I need both offers like I need air.” It’s dramatic and Iris rolls her eyes, but she gets the point.

For the rest of Linda’s fridge restocking trip, Linda hangs off each of Iris’ arms in what she calls a genuine public display of affection, and when Iris complains that her arms are tired Linda lets Iris hang off her arms instead.

They waltz through all the aisles, clinging to each other, linking their arms, and cooing dumb jokes about the press and the media, picking up all the ingredients Linda says she needs, and when they're done Iris is sure the cashier hisses at them and everything they're buying under his breath, but Linda is on cloud nine all the while. Iris thinks it's a fair trade.

They're halfway out the door with their bags of ingredients and Linda pecks Iris’ cheek quickly before walking out of the grocery, leaving a sticky smudge of lip gloss on her cheek.

Iris lets Linda come over to bake her cake because a change of scenery may reduce your stress levels, “It's been proven, you know, or we could prove it.”

It takes two hours to bake Linda's ‘happy cake’, mostly because Iris insisted on helping, and by helping she meant fetching the ingredients then making Linda laugh too much to be able to do anything productive with them.

“I’ve brought you your favourite flour, my darling. May I put it in your hair?”

“Oh my god, Iris, no— _stop_.”

By some miracle the cake is intact and baking contently in the oven. Linda is sitting on the counter, hands mostly floured, small smudges of flour on her face and legs courtesy Iris, swinging her legs and humming some equally content tune, while Iris leans against the counter, hands caked in flour, face more smudged with it than Linda’s, and grins.

The cake is still baking and Iris is still poking at Linda’s legs, smudging more flour onto her favourite jeans with every poke. “Now that you've gotten a break from your horrendous story,” Iris starts, and Linda cringes so intensely Iris worries that she really is in physical pain, “how are you feeling now?”

“I feel like I want to eat this entire cake with my boo on our first anniversary,” Linda chimes easily, legs back in full swing after she lightly taps the tip of Iris’ nose, adding to the flour already there.

Iris laughs and swats Linda's hand away, playful tilt to her smile as she asks, “And after that? You think you got this?”

“Well, I spent the best fraction of the day pretending to be your girlfriend, so.” Linda drags out a hum before laughing and flashing a smile, as playful as any other, “Yeah, I think I'll make it through unscathed.”

“Your wallet isn't unscathed.”

“Low blow, Iris. I got this now, okay, I swear.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love when an anxious Linda runs around cooking and baking up storms.  
> Flarrow femslash week-Monday: Favorite Ship AND/OR Fake/Pretend Relationship AU


End file.
